


On Misty Mornings

by thefoxandthealpha



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: F/M, Uncle/Niece Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-29 23:37:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefoxandthealpha/pseuds/thefoxandthealpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How do you explain to your uncle that you don’t want him to shave his beard because you like the way he sometimes lets you feel it and you hope that someday you might feel it between your legs?</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Misty Mornings

_“I have a beard of fog that I wear on misty mornings. It’s not cigarette smoke, but I’d understand if you wanted to shave it off and inhale it.” –Jarod Kintz_

It starts out innocently enough; Charlie likes the way Miles scratches at his cheek and listening to the sound his nails create against his stubble. She liked the way it rubbed against her forehead and her shoulder when he gave her the rare hug because he’d been sure he saw her fall in a fight or she’d woken up screaming for Danny. And when his stubble had grown out but not enough to be called a beard yet, she was entranced by the way he rubbed it in thought. It was then, on a day so hot that she could feel the sweat beading out of her pores, that she found herself thinking how his rough cheek would feel against her own.

Watching him scratch at it as he bartered with some grease stained vendor, she lets her mind wander. She feels a little shame when her belly fills with heat at the thought of his cheek against the soft skin of her thighs or that little dip of her hipbones. It’s too hot for these thoughts but they don’t stop coming, especially when she imagines taking his bottom lip between her teeth and how her own would rub against the hair in the curve of his chin. It’s his voice that pulls her back, a rough hand on her wrist and she blurts out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Did you lose your razor or something?” she stares at him wide eyed.

Miles stares back at her with the usual ‘How the fuck did you survive this long without me?’ look, “No, it rusted and I need a new one. We don’t have the money so unless you want to starve, I’ll have to be hairier than usual.”

Charlie pulls her hand away and begins to follow him through the crowded street. A moment of ridiculous panic goes through her, what the hell was she thinking? did he know, could he smell it on her? smell it, what the fuck is he a dog? and oh shit, what if he shaves it off now? Her mouth scrunches up as she tries to think while not falling behind. It doesn’t ever occur to her that freaking out about her uncle potentially shaving his beard is weird at all. By the time they’ve reached their destination, which is a well wooded area suitable for hiding from militia, she’s got an idea.

“You kind of look like you have a small animal on your face,” she says nonchalantly, unrolling her sleeping bag.

Miles rolls his eyes, “Shut up kid.” He’s already got his bedding set up, using his pack as a pillow. He closes his eyes as he rests his head on it and lets out a grunt.

Charlie bites her thumb nail as she studies him, eyes tracing the way the hair from his chin and jaw crawl down his neck a little ways, “Maybe you can store food in it for later.”

He cracks one eye open and she has to fight a grin, “Just for that, I’m keeping it.” And like that, Charlie has exactly what she wants. When will he learn that she knows exactly how to play him into the palm of her hand?

She keeps up the façade for days, poking fun at least once daily. What’s harder is keeping herself from shivering every time he inadvertently rubs his cheek against her. Which always comes at terrible moments like when they’re hiding from soldiers or when he’s protecting her from gunfire or sparring with her. She should be used to his touch by now but every brush is what electricity must feel like. Or at least how her dad described it to her.

So when she wakes up one morning to Miles’ empty sleeping bag beside her, she’s surprised to find him by the stream with a fresh razor and a smudgy mirror. This has gotten to be a habit and she has to work on it but she doesn’t think before she acts, grappling with him for the razor.

“Miles, don’t!”

Miles’ eyebrows shoot towards his hairline as he lets go, in fear of accidently cutting her. “What the fuck are you doing, Charlie? Goddamn!” Her cheeks redden as she stares at the grass between them, clutching the razor to her chest. “I could’ve hurt you, idiot!”

She stays silent, trying to find the words to explain her actions. How do you explain to your uncle that you don’t want him to shave his beard because you like the way he sometimes lets you feel it and you hope that someday you might feel it between your legs? Miles doesn’t let his hard stare waver, demanding explanation. She nibbles her lip and looks up at him hesitantly, her voice soft.

“I don’t want you to shave it.”

A silence stretches between them. Miles’ look turns from angry to calculating and the scrutiny makes her shift from one foot to the other. She’s suddenly aware of the way her hair is still messy from sleep and that her tank top is clinging to every curve with sweat. It isn’t like her to feel self-conscious in front of Miles of all people, Miles who usually looks like he just crawled out of a trash heap. But here he was, just washed up in the stream, beard still dripping with water. It’s not long enough to come off his chin yet but it’s getting there and Charlie knows if she looks, she won’t be able to stop herself. When his voice breaks the tense air between them, her shoulders sag with relief.

“You’re stupid. You know that?” And while his tone is as sharp as usual, it’s the way his eyes lower tenderly and his hand wraps around hers carefully to slip the blade from her fingers. He places it back in the leather pouch at his hip and ducks his head to make her meet his eyes. She does so unwillingly. “Go start on breakfast, I’ll be back in a bit.”

Charlie nods numbly, eyes flickering between his mouth and his chin before turning away. She pretends it’s not taking everything in her not to trip on her way back. When she reaches camp, she goes through the task of preparing breakfast mindlessly. She recognizes the footsteps of her uncle within seconds and unconsciously tries to smooth her hair. Her trembling hand accidently touches the pan above the coals as she stands and she hisses, sucking two fingers into her mouth. She expects a snarky remark from Miles but sucks in a breath when she feels his hands wrap around her waist instead.

The hair on his chin scratches her earlobe as he speaks, “Let me see.” She swallows hard, slipping the fingers from her mouth and holding them up for him to assess the damage. The full length of his body is pressed to her back. She blinks dazedly as his hands slip to the waistband of her leather pants. “No. Let me see what you do when you’re thinking about me.”

The words suck the moisture from her mouth and she has to swallow a few times to get it back. “I don’t-” The pads of his fingers are rough but they send sparks of lust through her as he pulls down her pants slowly. She doesn’t fight him.

“Is that right? Then what do you think about?” His breath is hot on her neck and she can tell he’s as worked up as she is by the way his heart is beating quickly against her back. His fingers skate the creases of her thighs and she can’t fight the giggle that both excites and calms her. It’s Miles. What did she have to be ashamed of?

Charlie feels drunk even though Miles never lets her have more than one sip from his flask every so often. “I like your beard.” He chuckles for some reason, Charlie doesn’t find it funny. She really, really likes it. He grunts then, telling her to keep going. “I think about how it would feel.”

It’s Miles’ turn to suck in a breath, he licks his lips. “Where?”

“Everywhere.”

“Show me.”

His words are barely a whisper against her hair. She doesn’t hesitate this time, lowering her hand between her legs. Softly, she strokes her thumb against herself through her panties. Miles is looking over her shoulder now, hands keeping her thighs spread. She feels like she’ll fall if he lets go. She’s already damp through her panties and it’s obvious by the way the fabric clings to her. He presses his hips up against her, letting her know that he wants it. Encouraging her. She makes a little noise at the feeling of his cock pressed to her small ass. Heat floods her again and she rubs against her mound a little harder.

“Take them off, Charlie.” But he’s already pushing them off for her until they hit her knees and his mouth is on the back of her thigh, covering the untouched skin there in little red blotches from his coarse beard. She whines and her knees buckle, he eases her to the ground. She braces herself on both hands, trying to catch her breath. He doesn’t let her, rolling her onto her back so that he can pull her leggings and panties off the rest of the way. He tosses them somewhere by her bag and grips her thighs again, spreading her wide.

Charlie blushes as his focus zeroes in on her dripping cunt. No one has ever seen her like this and somehow it figures Miles would be the first. She feels a sense of power at the way his breath shortens, like he forgot how to breathe. So she returns her fingers between her legs, slips them between her folds and hitches her hips up at the sensation. Her voice is full of breath, “I think about you kissing me down here.”

And isn’t that just the cutest thing ever? Miles has to remember that the kid doesn’t know a thing about sex, it’s not like before the blackout where there was porn easily accessed on the internet. He smiles at her fondly, presses a kiss to the inside of her thigh while he pushes up her shirt. He feels the way her belly quivers beneath his lips as she touches herself, can’t believe how high this gets him. He should be ashamed, taking advantage of a hormonally charged girl with separation anxiety who wanted to be kissed by a man with a beard.

He’d be damned before he let anyone else touch her like this.

Well, he was damned for touching her in the first place. He reaches her lips after getting lost on the curve of her breasts, unbound beneath her shirt. He’s not embarrassed to admit that he dies a little when he catches his name on her lips before taking them. Her lips are clumsy and inexperienced, teeth clicking against his. But he loves it, loves every gasp and giggle he gets out of her and swallows. The hand not buried between her legs has found its way to his face, fingers stroking his beard reverently. Maybe it’s a little weird that she’s so turned on and fascinated by facial hair but she’s Charlie.

Charlie whose back lifts off the ground as she comes from one of his fingers teased inside of her and his mouth pressed against her center in a dirty kiss. His Charlie who lets him explore her body til their breakfast is charred to a crisp and he’s spilled his come on her tan belly, now marred with burn from his beard.

**Author's Note:**

> I've come to terms with the fact that I'm probably going to hell. So please send me prompts/requests on my tumblr by the same name. Any rating, any kink.


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